


Til the End of the Line

by Swordy



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (because it’s always fluff and angst), Bucky Barnes - Freeform, Canon Disabled Character, Captain America - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, If they can have Vivienne Westwood they can have canon Stucky, Love Confession, M/M, Stucky - Freeform, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 05:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17698661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swordy/pseuds/Swordy
Summary: Whilst camping out at an abandoned house, Gladio discovers some Captain America comic books and realises the parallels between himself and Cap when it comes to him and Ignis.





	Til the End of the Line

**Author's Note:**

  * For [waywardmelody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardmelody/gifts).



> I’ll admit this is a pretty random story, but it was written for my good friend Way, who loves both Gladnis and Stucky and once asked me to try and marry them together (no, not like that). I’m pretty certain this isn’t what she imagined, but I hope she enjoys it just the same. 
> 
> Also, happy birthday Ignis Scientia. We all love you!❤️

As sanctuaries went it wasn’t ideal, but very little since Noct went into the crystal was. They’d found the house about an hour ago and, in the absence of a haven—or a miracle—it was going to have to do because they both needed rest. They’d managed to barricade the doors and windows to keep out any wandering daemons and they had talismans on them to keep away the ones that didn’t require a physical entrance and exit. In short, it would have to do. 

A fire was out of the question. Anything that might advertise their presence was suicide, but fortunately the temperature in Leide never dropped low enough for it to be a serious problem. Still, Gladio mourned for the heat and the flames - a physical beacon of hope in the otherwise shitty darkness.

He’d finished checking the perimeter an hour ago, confidant that it was secure enough to see them through til dawn. After that, they’d have to get moving—at best, they would have four hours of half-light before the darkness fell once again and the daemons reclaimed the land. If they kept moving at a decent pace, they’d make Meldacio within that window of time. Least he hoped they would.

Exhaustion and the need to sleep dogged Gladio's heels. Sometimes he found himself genuinely stunned that he was still only in his twenties, because he certainly didn’t feel like he was in the prime of his life. 

Satisfied that he’d done all he could to keep them safe, Gladio trudged through the house. Each room was frozen in time, a snapshot of family life cut short, presumably by the need to flee (he stubbornly refused to contemplate any alternative - it was hard to keep your spirits up at the best of times without entertaining thoughts of what else might have befallen this household).

Upstairs, he followed the sounds of movement to find which room Ignis had chosen to occupy. There were two and Gladio had looked over them both before giving Ignis the final decision. Ignis had made a face at that, but stopped short of voicing his bitterness at being given 'pointless busywork', which was so often his complaint these days.

“Hey,” Gladio said as he entered the room, even though Ignis would have heard his approach from the creaking floorboards on the stairs. Maybe even before that.

“Hey,” came the reply, uttered like that single syllable cost too much. In the unlit room Gladio could make out Ignis sitting in a chair beside the bed. Even the darkness couldn’t mask Ignis's mood, which radiated from him with a potency that sometimes stole Gladio's breath. He’d known Ignis almost his entire life, yet sometimes looking at him now was like seeing a stranger with an uncanny resemblance to someone else you knew.

“Everywhere's secure,” Gladio said unnecessarily, even though both of them knew he wouldn’t be there if there was more that could be done. How often he found himself speaking for speaking's sake now. He rationalised it by arguing that it gave Ignis something to latch onto in the unbroken darkness, but the reality was the silence crawled across his skin like fire ants until he couldn’t bear it any longer. “Hopefully we can get a few hours' rest here, then move on in the morning.”

Ignis nodded, his expression unchanged. Mentally Gladio likened him to a statue, carved by someone skilled enough to convey whatever tragedy had befallen the subject without explanation. Sometimes Gladio wanted to ask him if he was afraid of dying, but he always abstained. He could see the darkness inside Ignis without asking for verbal confirmation of its presence and it scared the shit out of him.

“Do you wanna eat?” he asked.

“No. I’m quite alright until tomorrow.”

“Okay.” That was a whole other battle, and certainly not one for now. Ignis had always delighted in food and its preparation—now he barely remembered to eat unless someone else suggested it. They had limited supplies and they’d eaten fairly well before leaving the outpost, so saving those rations for the morning wasn’t unreasonable. Still, a meal would have at least given them something to focus on rather than the drag of hours until sleep.

“I think I’m going to lie down if that’s okay,” Ignis said, breaking the silence. “I might be able to get a few hours' rest, gods willing.”

“Yeah,” Gladio replied, scrubbing a hand through his hair, ashamed of the relief he felt at the suggestion. “You should do that.”

 _Because_ _you_ _look_ _exhausted_. _Because_ _I’m_ _worried_ _about_ _you_. _Because_ _you_ _can’t_ _carry_ _on_ _like_ _this_.

“And you? You surely need sleep too.”

“Uh, I’m okay, I’m not tired,” Gladio lied, feeling utterly shit that he could take advantage of Ignis's blindness since it was impossible for the other man to see the stoop of his shoulders or the bags under his eyes. Yet the expression on Ignis's face seemed to say he knew he was being lied to.

“I apologise, Gladio. I’m afraid I make a very poor lookout these days.” His mouth curved into a weak, humourless smile, but his tone, when he continued, brooked no protest. “But I still expect you to wake me in a few hours. Trouble rarely arrives without making some kind of noise, so I can still take my turn.”

“Okay, but try to get some sleep first, yeah?”

“I will.”

Like he didn’t already have enough shit on his plate, Ignis appeared to have developed difficulty sleeping since losing his sight. Gladio had been able to research it before Eosweb had disappeared completely and apparently it wasn’t an unusual consequence for people whose loss of sight was sudden rather than gradual. He’d told Ignis about his findings and been greeted with the same disinterested acknowledgement that went for most things these days. He’d suggested looking out for herbs whose properties could be harvested to aid rest, but Ignis had pointedly refused to take anything that might make him more vulnerable. Not that Gladio could really blame him for that. But the bed in this house was better than anything either of them had slept in recently, so to Gladio's relief it wasn’t long before Ignis's breathing evened out and his features went slack.

Once he was sure Ignis was sleeping, Gladio studied that face for an embarrassingly long time. No one could ever accuse Ignis of vanity, but Gladio knew that the other man felt his scars leant him a disorderly, almost chaotic appearance that he found displeasing, having alluded to the fact a number of times since leaving Altissia. Since they shared facial disfigurements, Gladio had feigned hurt even though he knew Ignis didn’t hate all scars—simply his own. Once upon a time decorum would have seen Ignis apologising for his remark, even if he’d known Gladio wasn’t really offended, but he’d simply allowed the silence to resume and swallow up the opportunity for them to actually communicate.

The thing Gladio had never said was that Ignis's war wounds had done nothing to diminish his own desire. Ignis was still a ridiculously handsome guy and his injuries were a testament to his courage and loyalty. If Gladio had to find anything to dislike about those scars it would be that Ignis's destroyed features were a constant reminder of his _own_ failure and how Ignis deserved better than him.

Thinking about Altissia, despite the passage of years, was a dark road that Gladio tried not to go down if he could help it, but with Ignis asleep he needed a distraction. Carefully he stepped outside to investigate the other room. In the dim light he could make out a bed and the usual assortment of furniture, the bedcovers thrown back by whoever had occupied it last. With several years since the beginning of the darkness, there was every chance other travellers had used the property as a rest point after the original residents had left. If they had, they'd been respectful, like Gladio and Ignis would be.

Gladio wandered the room, hand trailing the dusty surfaces. As he passed a desk, his fingers met paper and he glanced down to see comic books, stacked in a neat pile.

He lifted the top one up, a smile breaking onto his face. Captain America. Gods, he loved these stories when he was a kid. Immediately he was hit with a wave of nostalgia; of racing home from school to find the latest instalment in amongst his parents' mail on the bureau by the front door; of Iris lying on his bed, rapt and amused in equal measures by his dramatic recitals of Cap's heroic adventures; of Cap and Bucky - and how they made him feel.

Lost in the memories, Gladio found himself flicking through the pages. When he reached for the next one he realised whoever owned these comics had kept them in meticulous order, giving him entire story arcs at his disposal. Then he remembered Ignis and realised he didn’t want to other man to wake and find him gone. Making a spur of the moment decision, he scooped up the entire pile and carried them back into the other room. He took the seat in the corner, laying the stack carefully at his feet before returning to the one he’d initially flicked through, the light pinned to his jacket providing just enough illumination to read with.

When he looked up again, almost two hours had passed. Surprised, he yawned and stretched, appreciating the satisfying crunch as something in his back freed up. In the bed across the room, Ignis stirred.

“Gladio?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Gladio answered, body shifting forward in his seat, ready to be at Ignis's side in an instant should he need it. Gods... what must it be like to wake to _nothing_. He clamped down on his imagination, aware of the resulting panic if he thought about it for too long. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Ignis replied, his voice thick with sleep. He scrubbed a hand across his face, consciously or unconsciously avoiding the ruined side of his face. “Have I slept for long?”

“Uh... about three hours? You can go back to sleep if you want. I found somethin' in the other room, got to reading and lost track of time.”

“What is it?”

“Huh?”

“That you’re reading.”

“Oh, uh, comics,” Gladio replied, somewhat abashed by the admission.

“Mmm.”

Gladio glanced back at the pages, unable to prevent the nostalgic smile that crossed his lips. “I loved these characters growing up. I’d get lost in their adventures for hours.”

Ignis said nothing, but he didn’t move and his right eye remained open, allowing Gladio to assume that he was still listening.

“Captain America was always my favourite. Do you know him?”

“I know the name, but I’m afraid that’s the limit of my experience.”

Gladio took a moment to study the panel he’d been reading. “My friends loved him because he was strong and brave. I loved him because of Bucky.”

“Bucky?” Ignis enquired. His expression remained the unhappy neutral that was his status quo these days, but the fact that he was asking questions encouraged Gladio to keep talking.

“Cap's partner. It made me feel okay about loving guys, you know? If someone like Cap could love a guy then so could I.”

None of this would be a surprise to Ignis—they'd talked about their preferences back when they were teenagers experiencing that first confusing rush of hormones and nothing had changed since then—but it still felt a little like he was baring his soul.

“Bucky had some bad shit happen to him; he lost an arm, got captured and then used by the enemy for years. When he got free, he tried to get Cap to stay away from him because he thought he was a lost cause. Cap refused to believe that though.”

Ignis raised his eyebrows, a quick movement and nothing more. He shifted in the bed, turning on his side so he was facing where Gladio sat in the chair.

“Maybe Bucky was right. Maybe some things... some _people_ can’t be fixed.”

Gladio stared for a moment, the blood roaring in his ears, because it was clear whom Ignis was really talking about. “You don’t believe that, I know you don’t, Iggy,” he said softly allowing the silence to rest between them for a moment.

“Cap was confident because he _knew_ Bucky... they had serious history. They grew up together, looked out for each other and their feelings for each other grew from that. He loved who Bucky was before and he loved Bucky despite everything that happened to him - even when Bucky couldn’t love himself. Cap loved him and he refused to give up on him.” Gladio swallowed hard. The room suddenly felt inexplicably warm. “Like... uh, like me, I guess.”

Once the words were out, Gladio had little choice but to wait and see how they were received. With Ignis unable to see, he could stare with impunity—a fact that caused Gladio no small amount of guilt, but didn’t stop him from doing it because _holy_ _fuck_ , he’d just admitted that he was in love. Potentially with someone who didn’t love him back. With someone burdened by a future he’d never envisaged. He watched the crease form between Ignis's eyes as he sat up on the bed. Then Ignis sighed, the action one of someone who had reached their limit and knew it.

“I... I don’t know what you’re saying, Gladio,” Ignis said, his head bowed. He sounded tired, his voice flat and dejected. “I know what I _think_ you’re saying, but... I realise it may be coloured by my own desires. But without being able to see your face, I can’t read things correctly anymore and... I fear I’m about to make a fool of myself by misinterpreting this situation completely.”

That pretty much broke Gladio's heart. Ignis was always so confident and self-assured, or he masked it flawlessly when he wasn’t. Now, he was broken and couldn’t figure how to put himself back together again, or let anyone share the load. He wasn’t saying he didn’t want Gladio’s affections, which understandably had been Gladio's primary fear—moreso that it couldn’t possibly be true. That he was no longer enough. That Gladio couldn’t possibly want him.

Gladio placed the comics on the floor and walked across the room with purposeful strides to where Ignis was sitting. Without having to ask, Ignis moved over to give him room to sit down. Gladio ran a hand down his face, unsure where best to begin.

“I love you, Iggy.” Well, that was straight to the point, at least. “I’ve known for so many years—hell, I can’t even remember a time when I _didn’t_. I kept a lid on it because there was always a reason and never a good time for me to say anything, and I told myself it was okay because I still got to be around you because of Noct; there was a you and me, even if there wasn’t an _us_. But you need to know now, because you need to understand that for those reasons and more, I ain’t giving up on you.”

“Gladio,” Ignis said wearily. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I dunno—say 'this is great news, Gladio' or 'thanks, but I’m not interested, Gladio'—”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Let’s pretend that it is. Let’s pretend it’s as simple as you telling me you don’t have feelings for me.”

“But—” Ignis stopped and sighed in frustration. His fingers worried the scar on his lip, a tic he now seemed to default to when he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He tried again, resigned. “But that would be a lie.”

Gladio breathed out slowly, frozen in place, hoping that Ignis would allow his walls to remain down. He waited out the silence, and was rewarded just at the point where it was about to become unbearable.

“My feelings for you, Gladio have been a feature of my life for a number of years, also. I had no doubt as to our compatibility, but it would be fair to say that I never acted upon them for the same reasons you did.”

Ignis smiled and Gladio instinctively mirrored it, but realised a heartbeat too late that happiness was not the emotion Ignis intended to communicate.

“But I fear our compatibility was based on the man I was, Gladio.”

In his mind Gladio pictured a scene, of Captain America, rigid and pale with fear as Bucky confessed to him _I_ _dunno_ _if_ _I’m_ _worth_ _all_ _this_ , _Steve_. Bucky had been wrong, and Ignis was too.

“You’re still that man, Iggy,” he replied quietly, reaching for Ignis's hand and taking it between his own.

“Glad—”

“No. Listen; are you gonna do everything in your power to keep things going until Noct returns?”

“Of course—” Gladio smiled at the hint of indignation in the other man's voice, like any other outcome was even a possibility.

“And have you decided to hang up your daggers since you lost your sight?”

“Well, no—”

“That sounds like the Iggy I know; the Iggy I’ve _known_ almost all my life.” Gladio gave Ignis's hand an encouraging squeeze. “In those comics, with regards to each other, Cap and Bucky had a mantra: _til_ _the_ _end_ _of_ _the_ _line_. I always wondered if I’d find someone that I’d feel that way about.” He huffed, amused incredulity that he’d sat on these feelings for so long— _too_ long. “It's you, Iggy—fuck—it’s _always_ been you.”

After a moment Ignis gave a small smile, the expression more genuine this time and enough to tell Gladio that something had changed. Despite the darkness, there was light now. Hope.

“Do you really think we can make it that far, Gladio?” Ignis asked, but the desolation had gone from his voice.

“I dunno,” Gladio replied honestly. “But I really, really wanna try.”

The response took a moment to come, but when it did it had a thread of determination running through it, exactly like the Ignis Gladio knew.

“Yes, I think I’d like that too.”

This was a dream come true. Gladio was conscious that he didn’t want to push Ignis too far, too quickly, but the next words slipped from his mouth before he could consider whether they were truly a good idea or not.

“I'd... I’d also really like to kiss you right now.”

Ignis's eyebrows drew together into a frown, which wasn’t the response Gladio had hoped for but before he could retreat, Ignis caught hold of his wrists, preventing him from putting any distance between them. Satisfied Gladio wasn’t going to try and escape, Ignis then traced a path up both of Gladio's arms, brushing lightly across his collarbones to his face. In return, Gladio studied Ignis, recognising the frown now as one of concentration as fingers deftly traced across his features. He remained still, breath caught in his throat when Ignis brought their lips together. The kiss was brief and chaste, but fireworks still exploded in Gladio's mind.

“Til the end of the line,” Ignis nodded, their foreheads still touching lightly. “Whenever or wherever that may be.”

“Yeah,” Gladio breathed, knowing he could make that oath easily. “That definitely sounds like a plan.”

**End**

 

 

 


End file.
